


That One Little Diner

by NikeScaret



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: Also dickbabs is no, And it's longer than I've written in forever, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Batfamily Feels, Damian Wayne Feels, Fluff and Angst, Gen, I Tried, It is obviously not, This is strictly gen, This was supposed to be a drabble, batfamily, this took forever to write, this was supposed to be short
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-21
Updated: 2017-04-21
Packaged: 2018-10-22 05:56:03
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,139
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10691121
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NikeScaret/pseuds/NikeScaret
Summary: There's a little diner in Gotham. It's small, and common, but it's a rather special diner.The Batclan visits almost every night and it's not for the food.





	That One Little Diner

**Author's Note:**

> This was supposed to be drabble.  
>    
>  _It's not a drabble._
> 
> Do you want to know the prompt?
> 
> _"Home" with the nice employee headcanon you reblogged_
> 
> Sounds simple right?
> 
> Just a quick thing, right?
> 
> Wrong!
> 
> This took me like twelve hours to write and I stressed over the Duke Thomas part SO GODDAMN MUCH I stayed up until midnight working on it.
> 
> And I did research on Arabic dishes.
> 
> Yeah. I'm fucking dedicated.
> 
> And the post this is based off of [this.](http://whore4batfam.tumblr.com/post/159775415540/so-as-i-person-who-works-nights-ive-recently)
> 
> ANYWAYS I hope you enjoy my word vomit.

There’s a little diner in Gotham. It’s small and has that classic ‘homey’ feel to it, and rather common, but it’s _special_. 

Why is it special? 

Because the vigilantes of Gotham come and go almost every night.

* * *

It all started around twenty years ago, when Batman crashes through the windows. By now, everyone in the city has gotten used to this sort of stuff. 

So they stand, shake their clothes of stray glass, and help Batman into a seat. 

They watch as he reaches a trembling hand to his ear. “Alfred?” And the low growl is gone. In it’s place is shaking voice filled with pain and searching for reassurance. 

A faint reply, and Batman nods, already slumping down. Mary, the owner, steps forward and sets down a cup of coffee along with some pills. 

Batman stares at her, at her unflinching smile, and slowly drinks the coffee. 

He ignores the pills though, and when he leaves he drops a hundred dollar tip on the counter as he limps towards his car.

* * *

The diner gets introduced to Agent A completely by accident, at least on their part. 

It’s the day after the third time Batman has come over to get patched up or something-they’re never sure with Batman-when a man dressed in a immaculate suit and a domino mask over his eyes materialized by the door. 

Mary feels underdressed in her work jeans, red shirt, and apron over it all. 

“Yes?” She asks, clapping her hands together to get rid of the flour. 

He raises a eyebrow. “Might I come in?” 

“What?“ Mary asks dumbly before shaking her head. “Oh, yeah, of course, come on in.” 

“Sorry for the mess. I was making some desserts and for that you need flour.” Mary says as she washes her hands and puts up her apron. 

“I assure you, I’m well aware.” The man says dryly, and Mary _has_ to whistle at that. 

“So, what’s your name, what do you want?” Mary asks, leaning back to check on the timer for the oven. 

“Of course. Forgive me. My name is Agent A, and I’m here to give you some proper medical knowledge since Master Batman appears to think this is the best place for him to go to if he’s severely injured.” There’s a strain of annoyance in his perfectly blank voice. 

Mary hums, looking Agent A straight in his whited out eyes. “Being able to help Batman? I’m all ears.” 

(Agent A and Mary end up getting along really well, and swap recipes song with some contact information in case of emergencies. They meet up once a week. 

When the Batclan finds out about this friendship, they prepare for the worst. The two people who can force them to do things for their own health are _friends?_

And one of them isn’t a butler and so can curse them out when she feels like it? 

The horror. The terror.) 

(Agent A and Mary watch in amusement and sip drinks on the background, exchanging stories about stubborn birds and bats and ignore the way Tim has fallen asleep mid-step. Around them is the best kind of commotion-the family maelstrom.)

* * *

Robin comes next, a boucing, smiling, and chattering boy with endless energy. 

At least, that’s what the city sees. 

The employees at the diner see him exhausted, hurt, and still making puns. 

They give him pie and ice cream and help patch him up the best they can. 

Robin gives them a smile and says _thank you_ as he leans into Batman’s side. 

Batman doesn’t say it, but they see the thankful nod, and it’s more than enough. 

(Years later, when Nightwing makes his entrance into the world, those at the diner shake their heads as they recall those tales Robin told them. 

They treat Nightwing to Robin’s favorite snack and he gives them a blinding smile that they return.)

* * *

With Robin comes Batgirl. She’s redheaded and fierce. She makes Robin watch his words. 

Robin obviously adores her. 

She laughs with him and tells inside jokes and Mary loves her, takes her under her wing. 

Batgirl ends up being able to make the diner’s signature pie in a month. 

(When she disappears, Mary asks Nightwing what happened to her. 

He gives her a sad smile and says, “Joker.”)

* * *

The second Robin appears, and they know his type. 

He’s from Crime Alley. They know the way he walks, the way he talks-it’s all indicators. 

But he’s bright. He grins and makes terrible jokes and loves life in general, and they love him just as much as they love Nightwing and Batman. 

They give him the sweets that their employees love, learn his favorites and treat him to hot chocolate and candy canes when it’s cold or wet. 

Robin smiles at them with his gap teeth and chirps, “Thank you!”. Batman smiles and ruffles his hair and every peaceful second is like it’s forever. 

(Robin dies. Robin dies and they grieve for that wonderful boy in that bright costume who had a cheeky grin and a heart of gold. 

Then Red Hood comes. 

He walks into the diner after everything has gone down between him and Batman at four in the morning and says, “You’re under my protection.” 

There’s a familiar timber, a familiar slur to his words, and Mary walks forward and says, “Robin?” 

He gives a shaky nod and Mary hugs him tight. “Missed you.” She tells him. 

He laughs even as they’re surrounded by the rest of the employees. “Missed you too.”)

* * *

The third Robin is not like the others. 

He’s quiet and more like Batman than anything, but he’s sweet. 

He helps out in the kitchen when he can, and tells them random trivia as they work. 

He’s a good kid. He sticks around. 

Those at the diner love him, love the fact that he’s so interested in helping. 

They can tell he’s from a different part of town then Nightwing and Red Hood, because his voice has a little lilt to the end, like he’s asking a question. 

In Gotham, only the rich have that accent. 

They could easily figure out Robin’s identity just from that. 

Batman knows this. He gives them a little glare as he shuffles the new Robin behind him, but they don’t mind. 

Batman is just a dad, after all. 

A parent who’s already lost a child, and who doesn’t want to lose another. 

(When he becomes Red Robin, they make fun of his cowl and tease him for the name, but secretly ask him, “What happened?” 

And he answers, “That Demon Brat.”)

* * *

Spoiler swings in through the door, a bright laugh and a flash of purple giving her away. 

Spoiler’s fun. She makes horrible jokes and is loud and enthusiastic, and complains about Robin and Batman among other things. 

She loves them and they love her. 

(She tells them of her father, and her daughter that she gave up. 

She’s so sad Mary gives her a hot chocolate and a cake to go. 

And when she becomes a Robin for a short while, they laugh at her hair and giggle at her jokes all while subtly giving Batman less coffee. 

It’s only fair.)

* * *

The new Batgirl comes out of nowhere. 

Literally. 

She appears in the diner, and though they can’t see her face, they can see she’s looking around curiously. 

“Hi. I’m Mary.” Mary says, taking the lead as she holds out her hand. 

Batgirl shakes it but doesn’t answer. 

“She doesn’t speak.” Batman rumbles. 

They don’t care. They shower her with treats and learn sign language so that they can talk. 

They love her. 

The new Batgirl has a place. 

And from the way that she absolutely bounces as she leaves, she knows that too. 

(When she becomes Black Bat and Spoiler becomes Batgirl, the younger employees throw a party, complete with food and soda. 

Batgirl laughs and laughs and Black Bat signs _stop,_ but she’s smiling.) 

* * *

Everything’s peaceful, and they occasionally get calls from Oracle, and the third Robin is back. 

Then a new boy comes. 

He’s brash and loud and rude, and most of the night staff don’t like him. 

But then Batman disappears. 

And everything’s thrown into chaos. 

Crime’s rampant in the streets, psychopaths from Arkham roam the city, and everyone is scared even as the Batclan run around with other heroes to try and contain it. 

The diner doesn’t close. They can’t afford it, even with the generous tips left by their nighttime customers 

A known robber and murderer walks into the diner one night, points a gun, and demands all the money they have. 

Mary is a tough woman, and grew up in the Gotham where the police force was corrupt as it could get and no one was stopping crime or even catching criminals, and so she has a gun in almost every corner she can fit it in. 

Her parents always said _get them before they can get you_ as gunshots rung outside and insane laughs echoed in the streets. 

Just as Mary is about to grab the gun a inch right of her hand, green boots hit the guy’s front and there Robin is, looking tired and beat up. 

“Lanceson, are you injured?” He asks, panting and holding a hand over his chest. 

It’s then that Mary notices the blood dripping onto the black and white checkered floor. 

“I’m alright, but you’re not!” Mary snaps, picking him up easily and walking into the backroom, barking orders at her employees. 

“Lanceson, I’m fine!” Robin shouts, struggling weakly. 

“You’re about as okay as burnt tomato soup!” Mary replies, busying herself with taking off the Robin tunic. 

“Boy, you aren’t going anywhere with that wound.” Mary says, staring at the cut that starts at his shoulder and ends at his hip. 

“I can still fight!” 

“No, you can’t! Now sit your ass down, and let me dress this before it gets infected!” 

“I’ve had worse in training with Mother!” 

Silence. 

“What.” Mary breathes, hands clenching and eyes narrowing. 

“I said nothing! I have to go! I have to go help! Father left the city and Gotham was _everything_ to him! I have to protect it!” Robin screams to the world at large. 

Mary lays a hand on his small, birdlike shoulder. “Robin, listen to me. There is no way this rotten city was worth more to him than you own life.” 

“What would you know? I’m the killer sent from Mother, the son he never wanted! This is the only I can prove my loyalty!” Robin slips the tunic back on and grapples out of the window before Mary could say anything, leaving only the memory of his words. 

After that, the employees start to connect the dots and realize the way he acts is only because of his upbringing. 

They treat him with respect and bombard him with affection. 

He eventually opens up to them, and what they see is _beautiful_. 

(When this Robin dies, killed by his clone, by his _mother_ , Mary loads a shotgun and heads to the shooting range. 

She shoots until she runs out of bullets and out of time and even then she stands, still pulling the trigger. 

She can’t see a thing beyond her tears, can’t think past that little boy in red who once brought a dog to the diner and said _This is Titus_ so proudly. 

She sets up a picture of him grinning with a bird in his hands next to Red Hood’s, and everyday she presses a hand to his face and says, “Why you?”) 

(When he comes _back_ , Mary runs towards him as fast as her old knees can handle, and hugs him as tight as she can, sobbing into his hair as they sink to the floor of the diner. 

“Don’t ever do that again, you hear me?” She says, pulling back and kissing his forehead. 

“I’ll try not to, Mary.” Is his reply and Mary lets out a watery laugh, pressing him against her chest again as she rocks him back and forth. 

“You better not, Robin. I can’t handle it if you do.” She whispers, and his tiny shaking is her only reply, and she loves this little boy in her arms so much, she sings a song her grandmother sang to her and that she hasn’t repeated since she died. 

The moment seems to last forever and yet it’s over far too soon. 

One of her staff takes a picture and Mary frames it, putting it on the wall right next to his memorial picture.)

* * *

The uproar in Gotham has come to a close, and Batman's back with that little ferocious Robin at his side. 

Mary knows it’s not the same man underneath the cowl. She’s spent more than a decade helping, and patching him up, and talking to him. 

This is not the same man. 

A small swish of a cape and Mary turns around, closing the oven with a swing of her hip. 

“I know you’re not the same person.” Mary tells Batman seriously. 

“I know.” 

And that’s Nightwing. 

Mary grins, pulling his head down so that so she can give him a hug. “I thought I’d lost you, Nightwing. No word, no note from you to me, nothing.” 

He laughs, rubbing the back of his neck. 

A small snort, and Mary turns to see Robin. “Hey, little man. I heard that you had a few exotic dishes you missed. Guess what? I looked up some recipes and-” She waves a pad of papers in his face. “Do you want to help me?” 

He’s tempted, little face scrunching up in thought. “I got a couple desserts too.” Mary says to seal the deal, flipping to the end of the pad. “I got umm ali, aish el-saraya, feteer,“ Robin is wavering, Mary is sure. Time to close this. “And basbousa.” 

Robin sighs, giving into the promise of the foods he grew up with. “Fine!” He shouts over the sound of Batman’s laughter. 

Mary whirls around and marches over to her storage space. “Which dish do you want?” 

“Umm Ali!” Robin replies, and Mary hums, nodding as she grabs the ingredients. 

She walks back over to the counter, and smiles at the new Dynamic Duo standing in her kitchen. “Let’s start.” 

(They spend hours making and baking and Mary twirls around these boys who should feel like impostors in her precious kitchen, but instead they feel more like family. 

Mary chuckles as she watches Robin scold Batman for making the dessert wrong. She doesn’t even know their real names or what they actually look like but- 

“Shit! Mary!” Batman wails. 

“Coming!” Mary calls back. 

Family indeed.)

* * *

They meet Lark when he stands in the doorway and exclaims, “So _this_ is what they’ve been keeping from me?” 

Mary laughs and invites him in. 

They talk and talk and talk, Lark rambling on about one thing or another and Mary telling stories from what's happened in her diner in the early hours of the morning. 

“Wait.” Lark says with his mouth full of banana cream pie. Mary gives him a look and he promptly swallows before speaking again. “I’ve never found out how you met Batman in the first place.” 

Everyone bursts into laughter, and Mary starts the story with her staff interrupting all the time and Mary ends it. 

“And he just kept coming back?” 

“Yep.” 

Lark chokes on the filling as he starts to cackle. “No _wonder_ he’s been hiding this place away! You know a ton of embarrassing stories!” 

Mary snorts. “Probably. Never know with Batman.” 

“Don’t I know it.” 

Mary sees him out a hour later and buries her face in her hands as she leans against the wall. 

“He’s kept the diner a _secret?”_

(Mary and her employees loves Lark; he’s a breath of fresh air after the inevitable insanity that follows the Batclan. 

He's still bewildered by the odd things his family does and everyone finds it adorable. 

In Gotham, you either adapt and get used to it, or you’re dead.) 

* * *

It’s Friday, and Mary knows her diner will soon be overrun with vigilantes, so she’s planning accordingly. 

A sound of feet on marble floor, and the noise starts. 

Mary stops stirring the batter and heads out to the customer area, already grinning. 

Red Robin and Robin are fighting, no surprise, with Red Hood and Batgirl laughing as Nightwing tries to break them up without much success. 

Batman is chatting with Agent A, clearly pretending he can’t see his children. Black Bat is watching from the shadows, but Mary can see the rubix cube in her hand. Lark is staring in amusement and confusion as the fighting continues, and Mary has to snort at that. Oracle’s on one of the screens, telling the other’s off for making a mess. 

Mary navigates the havoc effortlessly, grabbing the already made meals and drinks from the counter. 

“Okay! Who’s ready for-” Mary turns around and- 

She nearly drops the plates. 

Everyone’s mask is off. Everyone’s. 

Mary sets the plates down and sits on a stool. 

“Mary?” Robin asks as she starts laughing. 

“I _told_ you we should have given her a warning, Dickiebird!” Red Hood says as Mary bends at the waist, gasping for breath. 

Black Bat’s rubbing her back and Batman is looking uncertain. 

“Mary, why are you laughing?” Oracle asks. 

“It’s nothing. I just-” Mary takes a deep breath. “I just feel like this isn’t much of a step. I’ve seen almost all of you grow up in those uniforms and-” Tears start to fill her eyes as she stumbles over her words. 

“And I love you all, no matter who you are during the day. You’re family.” 

Her declaration stays in the air and for a moment Mary’s afraid she took it too far, that they don’t see her the same way, when Nightwing barrels into her, lifting her into the air and spinning her around. 

“We feel the same! That’s why we decided to do this!” Batgirl shouts into the cacophony of noise. “My name’s Stephanie Brown! Call me Steph!” 

“Damian Wayne.” Robin. 

“Tim Drake.” Red Robin 

“Jason Todd.” Red Hood. 

“That’s Cassandra Cain, call her Cass.” Black Bat. 

“Alfred Pennyworth.” Agent A. 

“Duke Thomas.” Lark. 

“Barbara Gordon.” Oracle. 

“Dick Grayson.” Nightwing. 

And finally- “Bruce Wayne.” -Batman. 

Mary stands in the middle of a group of unmasked vigilantes, and smiles. 

“My name’s Mary Lanceson, owner of this diner.“ Her smile grows into a grin. “But you all know that already.” 

Jason wraps his arm around her shoulders. “Damn right we do!” 

And as her odd little family talks and Mary watches on contently, and Damian stalks up to her and climbs into her lap, telling her about Bat-cow and Terry the Turkey, Mary feels like this is where she’s meant to be. 

This is where her **home** is. 

**Author's Note:**

> Here's my [Tumblr.](http://nikescaret.tumblr.com) I randomly hold "request a drabble" things so yeah. I might just write something for you.
> 
> Sorry for being so curt, but I'm just very very glad this is done.
> 
> And also, I love comments. It makes very very happy every time I get one-I even star it in my Gmail. :D


End file.
